English 12A

happiness is ...

2008-06-02T19:24:00.000-07:00

Chocolate and vanilla ice cream cones
Melting into the fingers of sand castle children,
A thermos of hot chocolate laced with marshmallows,
Hitting snooze on the alarm clock,
Not once,
Not twice,
But three times.
Sunday morning sunrises,
Snow days in March
And spring break in April.
Abandoning flip-flops in favor of bare feet,
Catching a butterfly
And then letting it fly away.
The one you love.
A handwritten note reading,
“I love you.”
Unexpected rainbows in an orange sky,
A black sheet of paper and a sharpened pencil,
And the ocean dancing with the horizon,
Inviting anyone to join.

1984

2008-05-18T18:03:00.000-07:00

based on the reading up through book 2, right after winston was told to put his hands in the air because he got caught, i dont think that winston is going to be killed. after reading that mr charrington was a member of the thought police, i think that they might make winston one of these members also. they dont just make proles thought police. they have to be part of the party first. i think that mr charrington wanted to rebel but didnt because he got caught. i think that they might make winston someone who can catch defiers of the party because he is smart and knows how to read people and figure them out. i dont think winston will be killed. i also think that julia is going to betray him because she doesnt want to die. she was just rebelling because she liked the idea of it; she didnt want to die for it.

genetic engineering

2008-03-08T13:41:00.000-08:00

Have you ever looked at your child and wondered what he/she would be like if you had the chance to decide their height and their eye shape? Would you jump at this opportunity? If you sit there and say yes, make sure you think about the reverberations this will have on everyone, including your child. Science is getting close to allowing parents to hand pick their children. And now it is time for American to step up and come to their senses. No one is stopping to think about the event of a defect or a mistake. No one is thinking about society and the impact on it. Although genetic engineering would eliminate disease, it would also eliminate individuality.

Society is a place where uniqueness is celebrated and encouraged. So what happens when we turn around and see 100 blond-haired blue-eyes beauties staring back at us? We encourage our children to do their best, try their hardest, and strive to get one step ahead. If we make out babies child prodigies, there is nothing life to strive for. If we start making the ‘perfect’ babies, that is just another rift in society that will keep growing. And eventually, when this gets out of hand, who is going to take the cashier jobs no one wants because they are too ‘good’ for them? We will not be able to reverse this fiasco but we can stop it before it gets out of control.

There is one aspect of genetic engineering that could be considered ‘positive’ and this is eliminating disease. But there is also downside to this. God creates people a certain way for a certain reason. Although these reasons may be almost impossible to figure out, they are still there. Messing with God’s will is not something humans should be doing. Also, in a more logical sense, what is going to happen to the doctors who research cures for cancer, doctors who treat cancer, chemists who spend months trying to find the perfect chemical, and all the other people who are in some way working with disease and cancer? Genetically engineering babies is something that would have a ripple effect on the entirety of society at some point. No one would be safe. Disease and cancer is not something any human should have to suffer through, but God does everything for a reason. We need to respect that.

What if you picked your baby to have brown hair and be 5’5’’ and she turned out to have red hair and be 5’8’’? Would you love you baby any less? Chances are no, but there are people out there who want the perfect baby and won’t settle for anything less. There would be a ridiculous number of lawsuits if parent’s babies didn’t turn out just the way they were supposed to. Genetic engineering calls into question the whole idea of parenting: loving your child unconditionally. Also, did anyone ever stop to think about what happens to the extra embryos? Studies have shown that embryos are indeed little tiny human beings. Would we just dispose of these babies, throw them out like trash? Where is the line going to be drawn? 10 embryos per couple or will it be 500? It is impossible to say, but killing all of these embryos that are not being used would be an unspeakable tragedy.

Genetic engineering is something that needs to be stopped before it gets out of hand. Whatever happened to murder being illegal? Are Americans simply abandoning their morals and values just because they have the preposterous opportunity to create ‘perfect’ children? America prides itself on equal opportunity for everyone, but what happens to the babies who are never born because they aren’t ‘perfect’ enough?

I Believe

2008-02-12T06:31:00.000-08:00

I believe in heroes. And not the comic book, super hero, overrated kind. I don’t believe in heroes names Superman or Spiderman. I believe in the heroes who slip quietly behind the shadows doing the right thing because that’s what’s in their hearts. The kind of heroes who don’t do it for their face on the front of the New York Times. I believe in the heroes who believe in random acts of kindness. I believe in everyday people who never expected to be called a hero.
I was eleven years old on September 11, 2001. I was an eleven year old who couldn’t tell you what a hero truly was. I didn’t believe in heroes then; I had no need to. But as I saw watching TV that night, along with almost every American in the country, I remember seeing endless videos of fearless firefighters, cops, civilians, running into burning building to save people they didn’t know and never would. I knew then what a hero really was. These people weren’t thinking about getting their name in the paper or about their five minutes of fame. They were thinking about finding the courage to carry the next nameless victim to safety. I believe in the heroes who perished in the World Trade Centers, giving their lives trying to save others. In the heroes who will forever be remembered and honored. These men and women were and always will be heroes.
Perhaps the most controversial belief in heroes is the belief in the ones overseas. Whether or not I support the war and President Bush is not the issue. That doesn’t change the fact that there are men and women overseas fighting and dying for freedom. I believe in the heroes who have left behind newborn babies, sick mothers, and new spouses. I remember hearing about a 19-year-old who got killed by a roadside bomb. He was 19, barely old enough to vote. I believe in the heroes who sometimes come home from war a shadow of the person they were when they left, but somehow they always carry on. I believe in the heroes who too often go unnamed, overshadowed by Britney Spear’s latest breakdown. I believe in the heroes who are somebody’s brother, sister, mother, father, son, daughter. I believe in the heroes who rarely get the respectful tribute they deserve.
I believe in the heroes who drive their kids to school in minivans. The kind of heroes who are just another face on a crowded street. I remember one time a few years ago my mom and I were come home from grocery shopping. We were coming up to a stoplight when we saw a grungy looking man standing there with a sign written in sloppy handwriting that read, “homeless: any money will help”. My mom silently reached for her wallet, pulled out a twenty-dollar bill, and placed it in the coffee can clanging with coins. The man quietly, humbly mumbled, “thank you, ma’am,” and my mom drove off. I’m sure to that man my mom was a hero, as was every person who anonymously dropped even a quarter into that can.
None of these people: civilians, cope, firefighters, were looking for recognition when they did the things that did. They were simply people who believed in random acts of kindness. And I believe in those heroes.

how to meet societies expectations

2008-01-18T17:31:00.000-08:00

who makes these rules?
you have to be a size 2.
size 4!
cut down to 100 calories a day.
eat only salad.
chocolate?
'looking at it makes you gain weight'
'but i like it'
'water tastes better anyway'

buy 80 dollar jeans
and 50 dollar t-shirts
don't wear sweats in public-
you'll never live it down.
don't forget to put on your mask
of mascara and foundation:
hide your true self.

go to the local salon.
ask to look like everyone else
they'll understand.
blond hair will soon be the new you.
if you want to go all the way,
color contacts
will complete the look.

give us your heart,
your soul.
we'll take it.
twist it.
remodel it.
and give it back.
nothing like what it was.
you'll become just another mechanical heart,
operating on automatic.

don't stand up for your beliefs
blend in with the crowd.
they're right:
you're wrong.
remember that.

become one of millions
not one in millions.

Analysis

2007-12-25T18:50:00.000-08:00

while i read this article, i found myself agreeing with much of what it said. i think that salinger's 'a catcher in the rye' depicted a troubled teenage boy who resembles, at least in part, all of teenager's today. holden often talks about 'phoniness' in the world. a lot of teenagers at holden's age are beginning to struggle with who they want to become. they are trying to figure out if they should give into the pressure of society or if they are still able to by true to themselves. holden is deperately trying not to give in, but throughout the book, he lies straight to people's faces. many people dont agree with the language and themes throughout 'a catcher in the rye', but these are things that teenagers deal with and think about sometimes. everyone has had to deal with them to some extent in their life. i think adults are too protective of children and teenagers. as said in the article, 'salinger's nivel in the ... most rounded ... portrait of a 16-year-old american boy we shall ever have.'

Rainbows

2007-12-19T08:04:00.000-08:00

Rainbows.
Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple.
Which one are you?
Which one am I?
I think I am …

Red.
I am love. Hugs.
Passion for everything.
Anger and a temper,
To match my hair.
I am the color of sunsets,
And Christmas joy.

Orange.
I am happiness.
Smiles and laughter,
The balance of boyfriends, friends, and family.
Energy for life,
Infecting everyone around me,
With my bliss.

Yellow.
I am optimism.
The glass is half full,
And I believe in karma,
Second chances.
The stars shining down,
Lighting a once dark world.

Green.
I am youth.
Living my life.
Making mistakes: learning.
Mother Nature,
Loving bare feet and grass: together.
Natural beauty and good luck.

Blue.
I am peace.
Praying for an end to all wars.
Loyal to honesty and true love.
Water: calm and serene – perfect.
Crashing at shore – unpredictable.
The sky: endless and everlasting.

Purple.
I am feminine.
Shoes and shopping nail polish.
With wisdom
To learn from my mistakes.
Demanding respect,
While giving it out in return.

Object Description

2007-12-06T06:13:00.000-08:00

If I close my eyes and think of the one place that comes to my mind when I think of where I’m from, I think of my kitchen. And it’s not because it’s my favorite room; it is where I grew up. It is where my roots are. It’s not really anything spectacular to look at, but it has memories. Is has a beige and brown tiled floor with an off-white flowered wall paper that has been there since the beginning of time, it seems. It has all the necessary electronics: refrigerator, stove, 2 ovens, and microwave. But to me, it’s more than that. It’s more than simply doing dishes and preheating the oven.
I grew up eating Sunday meals prepared with caring hands and warm hearts. Meals of steak or roast, mashed potatoes, and corn or broccoli. Homemade chocolate cake often accentuated the meal. My younger sister and I would argue over whose turn it was to day dishes. Somehow, we usually both ended up getting out of it.
My kitchen is the one room in my house that leads virtually everywhere. Downstairs to the computer and basement. Down the hall to my sanctuary, my bedroom. To the dining room, where I spent almost every night as a little girl drawing pictures and playing games. Outside, to the trampoline, pool, swing set, and sandbox. My mom would always be looking out the window in the kitchen, where she was making brownies or cookies, to make sure all of us kids were safely occupied in the backyard.
The kitchen was the most popular hide-and-seek hiding place. If Mom and Dad felt like joining in our game, they would sometimes lift us up on top to the refrigerator. It felt like I was on top of the world. In our six-seven-eight year old minds, we could see the world from six feet above the ground. But the best part was that the seekers could never find us.
I am the kind of person who embraces change but still likes to hold onto the familiarity of the past. I, like anyone, want a sense of security in my life. Although my family is far from perfect, and I don’t get along with them sometimes, I wouldn’t change them for the world. As life goes on and I grow from carrying dolls to carrying car keys through my kitchen, I will always have the foundation of security to hold me up and keep me hanging on.

Book Review

2007-11-19T07:59:00.000-08:00

A Long Way Gone
A Memoir
By Ishmael Beah

When Ishmael Beah was 12 years old, his life was changed forever. Throughout the whole memoir A Long Way Gone, Beah openly describes his experiences fighting as a child in Sierra Leone. He doesn't sugarcoat anything or leave anything out. He tells his experiences as he had them; the reader gets a vivid and accurate picture of his trials and tribulations. And, yet, despite all his hardships, Beah managed to overcome all his obstacles.

Before Beah was ever touched by the war, he was a normal child, enjoying spending time with his brother. He had an obsession with rap music, which later on ends up helping him. Beah spent his time learning new rap songs and also learning the dances for them. he was a carefree child. But when he was 12-years-old, he grew up literally overnight. One day he was hanging out with his cousins and the next he was frantically running back to his hometown desperately trying to find his family. He couldn't. They were lost forever. As the memoir progresses, we see Beah change, and not for the better. He loses all his morals and values. He just begins killing kids and adults alike. He laughed when he killed them. "I took turns smoking marijuana and sniffing brown brown." Beah even became addicted to drugs. He had the same DNA, but the boy Beah had become was a stranger.

Beah saw things that no one should ever have to see, let alone a 12-year-old who lost everyone in his family except his older brother. "Her child had been shot dead as she ran for her life." just from this one sentence excerpt, one could only imagine the horrors Beah witnessed. He described, on more than one occasion, dead bodies and how they were killed. These images are forever embedded into his brain. There is no way he can get rid of them. Beah also tells of his nightmares and flashback he still has today, years later and thousands of miles away in New York. "I was afraid to fall asleep but staying awake also brought back painful memories."

After Beah got rescued by UNICEF, he was still a stranger compared to the boy he was before his hell began. He rebelled against civilians; he had been brainwashed to think were all bad. He was used to killing any civilian he saw. But eventually, he learned to trust again. Ishmael Beah went from a carefree child to a brainwashed adult-minded child back to someone who learned how to live again. Although Beah can never go back to his life before being a boy soldier, he still talks about the memories he has. He often refers to his grandmother and all the stories that she taught him about the moon and morals.

A Long Way Gone is a book that should by read be everyone. It is not a typical memoir. Most memoirs are about abusive childhoods. This memoir is about a boy who had to fight to stay alive. He even had to fight to for his food, to see his family again. He was fighting to live. The most amazing thing about this memoir is that not once in the story does Beah try to evoke sympathy from the reader. He never once feels sorry for himself. His voice and tone stays strong throughout the whole memoir. He knew that if he wanted to live, he had to fight, and this comes through very strongly to the reader. He makes the reader feel like he felt: almost hopeless at times but yet he never, ever loses all hope. A Long Way Gone sends the message of hope and faith while also sending the message of the effects and horrors of children fighting in wars.

A Long Way Gone

2007-10-31T06:15:00.000-07:00

"If fear alters behavior, you're already defeated." - Brenda Hammond

Througout the book A Long Way Gone, fear is one of the most prominent themes in the memior. Beah bases almost his whole book on his life as a child in war and on the fear and courage that went along with that. For example, when Junior and Beah were both being selected to fight with the rebels and the rebels heard gunshots and got distracted, Beah didn't let his fear of dying or being killed stop him from running away. He didn't let fear get in the way. If Beah had let fear get in the way, he probably would have been killed. He thought about his fear and the fact that he didn't want to die; that is what made him act, but once he acted on that fear, it was as if the fear didn't exist. In his situation, the only thing you can think about is survivng and not being killed; you can have fear, but you can't let it rule you and your decisions. Fear cannot distract you. When Beah stole the corn from the little boy, he didn't let the fear of being embarrassed or punished by the boy's mother stop him. He was hungry, the boy had food, and Beah did what he had to do to get it. Also, the two times that he got captured by villages who thought he was a rebel, Beah didn't let fear get in his way. Somehow he managed to still dance and sing like nothing was wrong; not showing his fear or acting on it saved his life at least two times so far in the book. Fear is something that kept him going. If you were asked to run for more than an hour, you probably wouldn't be able to do it. But when Beah was being chased by the rebels, he was fearful for his life, and his adrenaline and his body allowed him to run full spee for that long. Without fear, Beah would have probably been killed. So while acting on his fear would not have been a good thing for Beah, at least having it benefited him. Beah was not even 12 years old at the time; he had every right to be scared. But he didn't act on it. It is impossible to be in the situation that Beah was in and not be scared; but he didn't let that distract him. at just 11 years of age, he learned how to grow up and become a man in less than a night. Beah even said that he was sick of living in fear; he decided to not let fear get in his way. Fear didn't defeat him.